


Harry Potter and The Dark Queen

by StruggleMuggle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dubious Consent, F/M, Harmony & Co's The Harmony Shag-A-Thon, Post-Hogwarts, role play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:21:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22620922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StruggleMuggle/pseuds/StruggleMuggle
Summary: Twelve years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry faces his ultimate adversary.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 13
Kudos: 106
Collections: The Harmony Shag-A-Thon 2020





	Harry Potter and The Dark Queen

Harry Potter and the Dark Queen

Harry paused before he touched the door handle to cast a quick detection. Sure enough, the handle glowed blue. Petrification - likely one of her own perverted variants. She was smart - so smart she used spell variants almost exclusively to reduce the chance anyone could protect against them.   
He looked up and down the hall quickly, but nothing moved. No sounds reached his ears but his own quickened breath and the hammering of his heart in his chest. One wrong move now... No, no it didn't bear thinking about.   
He took a deep breath and forced it out in a vain attempt to steady his nerves. When it had been Voldemort, he'd asked her once in a moment of deep despair "Why me?". She had simply smiled her little smile and replied "Who else would you trust it to?" He hadn't questioned it after that. His sense of personal responsibility had been his guide ever since, and she knew that.   
She knew he was coming, he was sure of it.  
He wiped the sweat from his brow and erased the petrification from the door handle, then silenced the door. He pushed the handle down, and it swung down smoothly.   
It wasn't locked. She definitely knew he was coming.  
He let the handle back up and took a few quick breaths, then stuck his wand in his mouth while he shook the adrenaline tingles from his fingers. Wand back in hand, he screwed up his nerve and swung the door open enough to peek in. The room was dark, lit by candles on stands and two guttering torches in sconces on the walls. The faint clink of dangling chains was the only sound in the room.   
He carefully opened the door enough to slip inside, and was about to step into the room, but stopped and backed up as he cursed himself for a fool. He cast another detection at the floor, and a large square - large enough to be unavoidable by anyone entering the room - glowed blue. He erased that one as well, but each finite he cast took a little of his strength and left that much less for when he faced her.  
Gradually his eyes adjusted to the gloom of the low, shifting light. The room itself was a large, open space with huge windows that looked onto gardens below and a lake in the distance. Thick wooden beams ran across the vaulted ceiling, and he thought it might have been a very nice place under different circumstances. Chains, thick steel chains hung from anchors in the rafters, dozens of them. Some of them ended in manacles, some in straps of thick leather. Sharp steel instruments hung in racks on the walls. Some were small and fine, others long and wickedly curved. Every last one of them bore dark, rust-colored spots. He suppressed the shiver that threatened to ripple up his spine as memories of Malfoy manor stirred in the depths of his mind.  
The center of the room was a pavilion - scores of large, soft cushions heaped together and draped by a cone of see-through rose-coloured silk. The opening in the draped silk faced the windows, and he couldn't see any detail within the silk cone, so he slowly, quietly made his way around the pavilion. If he had caught her sleeping...  
He stepped slowly in front of the opening, just enough to discover that she wasn't there. He straightened from his crouched posture as he turned to leave, and felt the slightest movement in his hair. He brushed his hand through his hair, thinking it a fly, but his hand came away enmeshed with spidersilk threads too fine to see. The only indication they were there was the feeling of them on his fingers and the slight shimmer they reflected when the light hit them just right.   
Spidersilk threads, hanging just above her own height, but not his. That was why the light was so low in the room, to make them more invisible.  
"Clever girl." He whispered.  
His neck began to tense without his permission, followed by his shoulders and back. His stomach clenched and doubled him over, then his hamstrings tightened and dropped him to his knees. His biceps spasmed and clenched tight, so the only thing he could point his wand at was himself.   
Spelled spidersilk threads. He had to hand it to her, that was one he'd never encountered before.  
The slight rustle of silk told him he was no longer alone.  
"Hmmm... Yes, I like it. On your knees is a good look for you, Potter." She purred huskily. Her voice came from above, where he couldn't see.   
He'd flubbed it. His only hope now was for her to make a mistake. It was an infinitesimally small chance, but there was still a chance. He would have to bide his time and wait for the opportunity to present itself.  
Her strong, slender fingers plucked his wand from his hand before he could even see her, and he heard it rattle across the floor and roll to a stop against a far wall.   
Shit.   
If she'd kept it he might've been able to get it back. There was no way he could run that far before she could curse him solid. She was too good.  
She dripped to the floor in front of him on more shimmering spidersilk threads that disappeared when she waved her hand. She wore a sheer silk robe - spidersilk, no doubt - and the torch behind her showed her athletic figure through it. He could also see her pert, hardened nipples poke through the front. He felt his arousal surge through him at the sight, no matter how fervently he tried to suppress it. He'd imagined her so many times, so many ways when they were teens, but the reality of her was infinitely hotter. Gods, she was beautiful.  
She motioned with her own wand, and the thick steel chains came to life. The manacles at the end began to clamp together like hungry mouths, and the resultant clang echoed, preternaturally loud in the near-silent room. It made him shiver despite himself as they arrowed toward him and wrapped themselves securely around his wrists. The chains with thick leather at the ends wrapped themselves around his ankles and buckled themselves securely.  
He should have known she wouldn't make a mistake. His only hope now was to appeal to her brighter nature - assuming there was any left. They didn't call her Dark Queen for no reason.  
She gestured again, this time to the pavilion, and the rose-coloured silk parted wider. Several of the cushions arranged themselves into a curved pile like half a tractor wheel made of pillows.   
"Honestly, I'm a bit disappointed in you, Potter." She said sadly. She stood over him proudly, her eyes flashing. Her long, slicked-back hair hung in a dark cascade around her face, and her eyes seemed almost black. "You never bothered to think about where you were going, or when, did you?"  
He hadn't, and it suddenly occurred to him he probably should have. "It doesn't matter, all that matters is stopping you!"  
She laughed. She threw back her head and laughed.   
As insulting as it was, he had to admit down in his heart of hearts, he had missed that sound ferociously.  
"There's my Harry." She chuckled. "All instinct, all fire and passion, no preparation at all." She leaned down and stroked his cheek almost lovingly. "Honestly. Did it never occurr to you that I kept you around? Hmm? No, I don't suppose it did. If it had, you might've asked why I kept you around, when all the others fell so easily."  
"What have you done with them?!" He growled menacingly. At least, he hoped it was menacingly. It sounded a trifle hollow to his own ears.  
"Oh Harry." She shook her head. "It's far too late for your saving people thing. They've already long since been repurposed, just as you have now been."  
His mouth went dry.  
"No pithy comments for that? No more shouty bluster? Good. Maybe you comprehend the situation after all. It's too late for them now, Potter. It's too late for you now. They've been serving faithfully, eagerly, as the very soldiers you fight against. You... have a different purpose."  
"What? What did you do to them?" He whispered.  
She smiled at him, and it was at once so familiar, so loved, but at the same time dark and hungry. "You should be asking what I intend to do with you." She whispered back, full of anticipation and excitement.   
"While you wasted far too long breaking in here, my soldiers have secured the Ministry and cut off any escape routes. Britain belongs to me now, Harry. I've already won."  
"Why then?! Why am I here? Why waste so many lives just to lure me here?"  
She smiled again, this time through half-lidded eyes. Her hands slid sinuously over her hipbones and down the fronts of her thighs, and the sight inflamed desire deep within him even as he desperately fought against it.  
"Riddle was a frightened weakling, Harry. A bumbling amateur. His mistake was thinking he could cheat death. Nobody cheats death. Everyone pays the price. I extend my youth as much as possible, but I know I will one day die as well. It occurred to me long ago that I would need a successor. An heir. That's why you're here, Harry. You're my Victory Celebration." She purred.   
One hand slid between her legs and she touched a wet fingertip to the hollow of his upper lip. The smell of her sex filled his nostrils and ignited flames of lust within him, despite the situation.   
"Did you know," She purred into his ear, "I used to masturbate at night, thinking of your hot, thick meat pounding me into the bed? All through school, Harry. I could have been yours with a word. With a kiss." She waved her wand again, and the chains attached to his wrists and ankles lifted him bodily from the floor and carried him into the pavilion where the paralysis that locked his muscles disappeared. He was thrust onto the curved pillow pile on his back, spread-eagled.   
"Well..." She announced as she followed him under the rose-coloured silk, "Now I'm the fucking Queen, and I get what I fucking want." She lashed her wand at him, and his clothes Vanished. His previously restrained manhood acknowledged its freedom by betraying his lust to his captor.  
"Mmmm." She purred as she stood over him and admired it. "Yes, that will do nicely. It's clear you still desire me, I'm flattered." She summoned a small table with several instruments on it. He couldn't see what they were, but the table's presence told him it would be a long night.  
"As eager as you are though, I think I'll have you wait and whine as I tease you the way you teased me." Her eyes flashed in the dim. "Always there, Harry. Always close, always just out of reach."   
She bent closer to him, so her face was next to his. "You can cum anytime you want Harry, all you have to do... is beg me for it."  
She stood up to her full height and looked him in the eyes as her pert breasts stood out proudly. Her silk robe slid slowly to the floor in a dark pool.   
He tried to look away, he truly did. The sight of her smooth, perfect skin over her lithe muscles kept his eyes locked onto her as they flicked up and down between her gloriously proud nipples and her completely hairless crotch.  
His breath quickened and his heart hammered. She couldn't know it, but he had wanted to see her like this for so long. Now that it happened, he was even more turned on by it. A tiny but growing part of him just wanted her to have her way with him again and again and again...  
She stood next to his head, her groin next to his face so close he could feel the heat from it on his face. So close he could smell her arousal. Why did she turn him on so completely? Did she know what effect she had on him? He tried to breathe deeply, to calm down, but every breath was filled with her musk, with the scent of the one woman he had desired since fourth year. He strained at the chains. He had to get away. He wanted her so deeply, so fiercely... He had to get away or all was lost.  
Her cool, smooth fingers stroked his forehead then, almost lovingly, then traced down his breastbone and stomach to slide over his straining erection. He moaned before he could bite it back.   
"Yeesss." She hissed. "Moan for me, Harry. I can feel your pulse racing." Her fingers tapped the tip of his manhood in time with his heartbeat. "I know you can smell how hot you make me, even after all these years." She moved back to his head and swung her leg over to straddle his mouth. "There it is, Harry. I know you want it. I can see you straining against your own desire. I can feel your need." Her fingers fluttered over his manhood again. "Taste me, Harry, I'm yours. Take what you've craved for so long. Reach out with your tongue and take me."  
He couldn't! He shouldn't. He tried desperately to think of anything else, to take his mind away from the situation, but with every thought she was there. Yule Ball, how he'd felt the shock run through him as he laid eyes on her coming down the stairs. The fantasies he had about her every night thereafter. Against the bookshelves in the library, legs wrapped around his waist, panting and afraid of being caught. In the common room on the sofa beside the fireplace. Her beautiful eyes as she looked up at him from under the table in the Great Hall.  
He felt moist heat against his tongue, and she shivered as she moaned. The taste of her surged through his mind like lightning and shattered any thoughts of control. He hadn't meant to do it, but it was done. Up and down her slick folds, softer than any silk. His tongue ran laps around her while she moaned somewhere above. He lapped at her feverishly, unable to get enough. She lowered herself onto his mouth entirely, and he wrapped his whole mouth around her and sucked on her core as his tongue plunged into her depths.   
She shuddered and began to buck against his face as her pants deepened into husky groans of pleasure. His tongue became a thing on its own, desperate to taste her, to pierce her. It didn't care why it was there, it didn't care about should or shouldn't. It wanted her, any and all of her.  
Her hands gripped his hair and she rode his face while he hungrily devoured every bit of her that he could reach. She gasped the first time his tongue entered her behind, but her subsequent frenzy told him she loved it.  
"Again!" She demanded hoarsely. "Up my arse! Again!" Her words were half-shout, half growl as she ground herself back and forth against his face. Her words turned into grunts that slowly rose in pitch as he obeyed, unable to stop himself. He needed to hear her pleasure. Needed it like a drowning man needs air.  
She reached her crescendo quickly. "Ah! Fuck!" She screamed. Her eyes squinched shut, and her voice stopped as her legs clamped onto the sides of his head and her full weight pushed his head deep into the pillows that supported it. He could feel her muscles quiver and clench as she orgasmed.   
Her weight kept his mouth open, so his tongue traced sinuous patterns on any flesh it could reach.   
"Fuck, Potter." She panted when her eyes opened again. "Those horny cows at the Ministry making eyes at you don't have a clue what that tongue is capable of. I definitely made the right choice." She stood again and swung her leg off him before she bent to cover his mouth with hers. Her tongue thrust into his mouth and danced with his own like they had been created for expressly that purpose. She stoked his passion into unbearability, and he whined when she took her mouth away.   
'Merlin help me,' He thought, 'All I want to do is make love to her. It's everything I always knew it would be. She's everything I ever wanted.'  
"Even your stuck-up cunt of a wife has no idea what she has." She hovered over him and looked into his eyes. "I know, Harry. I know what you want. I want to feel your hard cock sliding in and out of my arse too." She whispered with a smile.   
How could she know!? He'd never told a single soul that fantasy.  
"We have the rest of our lives for that, my obedient little fuckslave. Tonight is my victory, and I will have that from you now." She swung her leg over his hips and straddled his straining, throbbing need.  
"Don't talk about my wife like that!" He tried to sound forceful, but it came out plaintive, tainted by the lust she utterly corrupted him with.  
She laughed again, and slid her hot wetness up and down his length. "You belong to me now, Harry. You still haven't figured out the significance of the date tonight, have you?"  
As though he could think of anything but being inside her.  
She smiled down at him and slid backward onto him. He moaned out loud as her warmth enveloped him. She wriggled herself backward and sent shivers through his entire body as she sat her full weight down on his thighs this time, his entire focus vertical inside her.  
"Fuck yes." She breathed as she raised herself up and bounced down on him again. Over and over she raised herself off him and pounded herself down again. He could feel his own climax approach, but at the exact moment he realized it, she stopped. She just sat still with him trapped inside her.   
"Ah ah ah, Potter." She waggled her finger at him. "I told you what you have to do if you want to cum." He smile was predatory. Smug. In Control.   
He tried to flex his behind, to get some kind of thrust into her, but the pillows merely gave way and gave no purchase. She slowly moved her hips in a circle as she smiled that smile at him. He moved inside her a little, enough to feel, but not enough to give him what he wanted. His teeth ground with the frustration of it.   
"I can feel you twitching inside me. So close... You want to feel me clench around you as you pump your hot seed into me, don't you Potter?" She asked silkily. She raised herself up and dropped onto him again, just once, and waited while he growled deep in his throat.   
She moved her hips in circles again, kept him on the ragged edge of release. "You know what you have to do, Harry. How much do you want it? How much do you want me? Fill my insides, Harry, make me yours." She thrust herself back onto him gently, just tiny bumps that kept the breath hissing through his teeth while his mind scrabbled for anything to cling to, anything that could keep him from begging her for release.   
Her fingers raked down his chest, and she pinched his nipples. The shock of it jarred him back into his body, and added to his heightened desire.  
"Fuck me, Harry. Hurry up and beg so I can give us what we both want." Her voice was low and smooth, whining with need. She sucked one of his nipples into her mouth as she leaned over him. Her silky, straight hair poured over his skin, and the continual grinding of her womb against the head of his shaft finally broke his crumbling will.  
"Let... Let me cum." He whispered. "I want to feel you clench around me while I pump you full. Merlin help me Hermione, let me cum in you."  
She laughed again and sat up. "Sorry, what was that, I didn't hear you."  
"Let me cum!" He demanded. "Please."  
She frowned and pinched his nipple again. "That didn't sound much like a request, Harry."  
"Please!" He whined. He knew he whined, and he was beyond caring. "Please let me cum in you! Please!"  
"Louder!"  
"Please let me cum in you! I need it! Please! I'll do anything!" He shouted.  
She smiled down at him beatifically, and pounded her hips down onto him once, twice.  
"I... WIN!" She screamed as she pounded onto him a third time, her head thrown back. Her long silky hair tickled his thighs.   
His mind exploded. Burning white filled his eyes as his entire being clenched and unclenched in time. He was dimly aware that she lay on top of him, and he could feel her insides clench around him as she milked him for every drop.  
They lay there like that for a long moment as they both gasped for air and his shameful defeat dribbled out of her onto the pillows below.  
"Mmmm." She purred. She flicked her hair back over her shoulder and kissed his chest. "You belong to me."   
In the deepest, darkest corner of his honesty, he'd always known that to be true.   
She sat up then, and ran her hands across her taut, athletic belly. "So good." She smiled at him. "So, what do you think about Marcus, or maybe Roman? Personally I hope it's a girl, I like Regan if it's a girl. Or maybe Tamora."  
Harry froze. "What?"  
She frowned at him. "For our baby. I told you I wanted an heir from you, weren't you listening?"   
Then it clicked. How she went on about the date - Hermione always got her period in the middle of the lunar month, like clockwork. He'd learned that in the Tent. That meant she'd had it two weeks ago. She was fertile.  
"You meant now?"  
She threw her head back and laughed again, and Harry was forced to admit he loved that sound more than just about anything.  
"Oh Harry. Honestly! It's a good thing you're such a brilliant lover." She lay back down on top of him and caressed him while he softened inside her. After he finally slipped out, she bit her lip as she looked him in the eyes and crept forward to kiss him gently on the lips.  
She waved her wand and the chains dropped away from his wrists and ankles. The pillows relaxed into a big soft comfy pile of pillows, and she lay back down on top of him.   
"I had planned to keep you going a lot longer than that but fuck, Harry. Two little blinding orgasms and I'm a puddle." She pouted. "I just want snuggles now." She kissed him again. "Don't be mad?"  
Harry wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. "Of course not. That was fucking brilliant, love. You are so fucking hot."  
"Hmmm." She hummed happily as she nuzzled into his neck. "I did like that one. You look pretty damn hot as my sex slave, too."  
Harry chuckled. "I can't believe you called me a little fuckslave."   
"It was in character!" She protested.  
"Or called yourself a stuck-up cunt. That made me a little mad."  
She scoffed. "It's just words, Harry. I've heard the bitches at work calling me that for years behind my back. It doesn't bother me any more than mudblood does. They're just jealous of my brains and my husband." She nuzzled into his neck and kissed him there.  
"Well, I can see them being jealous of your brains, that's true."  
She snorted and rolled her eyes at him, then hugged him tighter.  
"You're okay with the setting? I was a little worried it would be a complete turn-off." She asked.  
"No, it was fine love. It did start to feel a little Malfoy Manor, but you completely obliterated that. You were brilliant. That was just... You were bloody amazing."   
"Being a bad girl is surprisingly fun, especially when you get to subjugate such a delicious little fuckslave." She giggled.  
Harry chucked. "That's a new petname now, is it?"  
"If you're lucky." She kissed his cheek.  
"How did you know?" He asked quietly. "I don't think I ever told anyone my fantasies about your behind."  
"Oh Harry." She said in a disapproving tone, "We've been married twelve years. I have eyes and ears and a brain."  
Harry quietly admonished himself for underestimating her.   
"I'm enjoying our...more adventurous side." She added quietly.  
"So am I love. I've been working on your birthday surprise for ages." He smiled at her, then whispered into her ear "I'm calling it 'Naughty Professor'."  
She purred again and raised herself up to kiss his mouth. "Mmmm. I can't wait. Happy Birthday, my love."  
"I love you, Hermione. My dark, line-thieving queen."   
She chuckled and kissed him again. "Oh, I wasn't kidding about the baby. I want another of your gorgeous children, I just worked it into the story."  
Harry turned to look into her eyes, and she could see his overflow. "Just when I think I couldn't possibly love you any more than I do, you prove me wrong." He kissed her again tenderly and held her close. "We'll figure something out if it's a boy, but if it's a girl I like Regina. Regina Tenebris Potter."  
Hermione started to laugh, and Harry confirmed it was indeed his favourite sound in the world.


End file.
